Mary Reilly (_spelled_asleep) wrote in _haunted_night,
Mary Reilly
_spelled_asleep
_haunted_night

Briar Cliff: Upstairs {{{CLOSED}}}

"Tired, maybe drying off would be a good idea"

Mary had quickly released her hold on Sarah's arm as the lady gave a nervous jump. Perhaps Mary had overstepped her boundaries, perhaps Sarah preferred not to be touched. These thoughts vanished though at the brunettes words, showing Mary that Sarah had just been startled and was not rejecting any physical signs of compassion. Placing a hand gently on Sarah's lower back Mary led her towards the stairs.

"Excuse us," she nodded politely to the others who were now surrounding the man on the floor. Sarah was her friend though and Mary had to look after her first. Friend. Yes, it was nice to have one. If Peter had been in need she would have helped him as well.

Sarah's black sweater was wet and squelchy under Mary's hand, and for a moment Mary had a fear of the lady catching a bad humor. She berated herself for her foolishness. Hadn't Doctor Jeckyll's books dismissed such ideas ? There were no humors just contagion which entered through the bodies orifice's.

"Should change"

"W-we'll find a suitable room for you," Mary nodded. The lady was clearly exhausted and needed to rest. Mary would see to Sarah's needs and then, once she was abed, take care of herself. She had already slept--albeit in odd circumstances--and had eaten a fine breakfast. As they reached the second level of the manor and began their walk down the hallway, Mary took note of an open door which revealed a room with what looked to be a large, foot-less bath tub. There should be towels in there.

As other occupants of Briar Cliff had seen before, the house had a way of changing bedrooms to suit a person's needs, and as Mary opened one door for Sarah she didn't recognize the modern style that her twentieth century friend would find very familiar. With slightly furrowed brows Mary once again took in Sarah's tired stance. The poor woman still had that book of hers concealed under her clothes.

"Perhaps you would c-change M--Sarah," Mary stopped herself, though it was so easy to return to titles, to distance herself from the others. She didn't want to with Sarah, Mary could admit to herself. She wanted Sarah's friendship more than that. "I'll fetch some things from the wash closet, it won't take a minute."

[OPEN TO: Sarah and anyone else who comes upstairs in Briar Cliff]
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